


Bloodstains

by Emily_F6



Series: Febuwhump 2020 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Hurt Peter Parker, Whump, febuwhump 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23158549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emily_F6/pseuds/Emily_F6
Summary: A plane crash leaves Peter, Sam, and Bucky stranded.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Febuwhump 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664710
Comments: 4
Kudos: 259





	Bloodstains

"Peter!"

"Peter? Kid!" 

"Peter!"

The repetitive sound brought Peter to, although he wasn't sure what the word meant, or what was happening...or where he was, for that matter. He was cold. That much was clear by the way his body shook. But he wasn't shaking much. All around him was red snow, and he wondered why. What would make snow turn red? Blinking and staring up at the trees that surrounded him, he focused on the sound of his own breathing.

A string of curses filled the air, and then another voice screamed, the same word. The same sound. Why? Why was someone yelling? All he wanted to sleep. He was shivering and cold, but the area where he lay was almost warm. If he closed his eyes, he thought, he could sleep and then the could wouldn't matter. He just wanted to sleep! The world was fuzzy around him, and the trees stood out in sharp contrast to the pale blue sky as he stared up at them.

Why was he outside?

It didn't matter, he decided. Outside was fine as long as he could sleep there.

"Peter! Kid? Shit! Stark is going to fucking kill us!"

"It's not our fault the plane..oh shit…".

Then there was blessed silence until footsteps came closer, and Peter shut his eyes, not wanting any more input. He just wanted to sleep. And he was starting to sleep again...starting to drift off when a hand grabbed his shoulder and he screamed from the pain. At least, he thought he screamed. Was he...awake? He was lying on his back, shivering less and less from the cold, and a cold hand pressed against his cheek.

"Peter! Kid! Come on, Spidey!" Someone urged, but he had no idea what that meant or who Spidey was or who Peter was he just wanted to sleep!

He'd moved his head before. He'd seen the red snow surrounding him. Why was the snow red? But moving his head again didn't feel like an option. There was a steady pounding, and the world seemed to swirl around him. 

"Peter, come on! Open your eyes! Shit! Bucky, feel for a pulse. Stark is going to kill us!"

"Shut up! I can't feel for a pulse with you screaming at me!"

"Hm?" Peter muttered, and the two went silent for a long minute. He thought it had worked, and started to drift off again when someone tapped his face.

"Peter. Kid. It's Bucky. Open your eyes."

Peter. His name was Peter. Spidey. Spiderman. And Bucky. He knew Bucky. Bucky and Sam. A plane and a mission. The thoughts hit him so suddenly that he gasped, eyes flying open, but Bucky's hands were steady on his shoulders, and the man shook his head. Bucky's face was red, Peter realized. Or...or there was red on it. Red dripped down his cheek. 

"Stay still, Peter. Don't move. Just...hold tight, okay?"

"I...Bucky...I'm...cold...what happened…"

The man's face was serious and firm and Peter tried to remember the last thing that had happened...what could have led to this? But it was a blank. A complete blank. Blackness. He remembered a plane. They'd been on a plane. But why? Why had they been on a plane? A mission. But..what about the mission? Bucky was rarely so serious these days. Neither was Sam. The two taunted each other and joked around and played pranks, and Peter had been going with them...somewhere. Bucky had asked him to...had invited him along. And Peter had been excited.

"Sam?" Bucky demanded, glancing up at someone Peter couldn't see.

"I need a medkit. Now."

"We're in the middle of nowhere!" Bucky snapped.

"Bucky?" Peter asked. Now that sleep was out of the question, he felt his heart racing, his breath coming faster. He tried to bring a hand up to his chest but his shoulder burned and he let out a gasping sob, dropping his hand back down. "Bucky, I can't…" He started, mouth open as he panted.

"Hang on, Pete. Just keep breathing."

"We have to call for help. Now." That was Sam's voice. He and Sam had played frisbee with the shield earlier. Or...yesterday? Mr. Stark had come outside and laughed when he'd seen them. Then Bucky had joined in.

Peter groaned in pain when someone moved his leg. The numbness was fading, pain taking its place. His head throbbed, making linear thought impossible. "What...what's wrong?" He asked, tugging on Bucky's sleeve with the hand he was able to move. They had a mission. They had to...to do something. 

"Don't worry about it, Peter. Just keep breathing, kid." Sam urged, but Peter had to know.

When he managed to force his head to lift so he could look at Sam, and at his legs, he couldn't help the gasp. There was a piece of...of metal. In his thigh. And below that his leg was bent. But not bent like his leg normally was. It was...wrong.

"Pete. Don't...kid, it's...lay down." Sam urged, and Bucky pushed him back onto the ground and into the snow with a gentle hand on his chest, avoiding the shoulder that hurt so badly.

"Mr. Stark...where...where's Mr. Stark?" Peter asked, too terrified to be ashamed when his voice cracked and his eyes filled with tears. Bucky kept a firm hand on his chest, moving into his line of sight, face a forced mask of calm.

"Kid, we're calling for help, okay? You're going to be okay."

"It hurts. I'm...I'm cold…"

"I know." Bucky ripped his jacket off and draped it over Peter's torso, his flesh and blood hand touching his forehead. "Sam?"

The man was muttering to himself, speaking under his breath, but Peter heard every word. "I have to...it's going to get infected if I don't…and I need to reset his leg."

"No…" Peter whimpered, shaking his head and grabbing at Bucky again with his working hand. He didn't want anyone touching his leg! "Please...don't...it hurts!"

"I know, kid, but...shit, Peter, I have to. Your leg is going to heal around it and it could get infected and I have to set your leg."

"No...no, don't!" Peter begged, trying to jerk away, but he couldn't make his leg move.

Sam was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke, his voice was weak. Pained. "Bucky, you have to hold him."

The super-soldier gave him a torn look, then he bit his lip and placed one hand on Peter's good shoulder and another on his chest. "It's okay, Peter. It's going to be fast."

"Bucky…" Peter choked out, but the man shook his head.

"I'm sorry, kid. You're going to be okay. He just has to fix your leg, then we'll get some help."

He shook his head, trying to bring up his good hand, but Bucky held him still. "Bucky...don't...please…"

"I'm so sorry, Pete. Just hang on. It's…" His gentle reassurance was cut off by the guttural scream that ripped out of Peter's throat, head slamming into the ground hard enough that he saw stars. "I'm sorry. Peter, kiddo, I'm...shit, I'm so sorry. Just...hold on, buddy. Please...shit, just breathe for me, kid. Sam!"

Peter couldn't think around the pain. Couldn't breathe around it. It was like fireworks going off behind his eyes, but in the worst way, and his whole body was pain as Sam braced his leg and began wrapping something around it. All he knew was the pain and the firm press of Bucky's hands on his shoulders. Pressing him firmly into the ground. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't sit up. Couldn't move his arms or do anything but scream and beg for it to stop.

"I'm sorry. Kid, I'm so sorry. It's okay. You're okay."

He wasn't okay! It hurt it hurt it hurt!

And then something was pulled out of his thigh and the world was black.

When Peter opened his eyes again, he was almost warm. Someone was holding them in their lap, holding him close and rubbing a hand over his back. His head was resting against someone's shoulder and someone was talking.

"Sam, he's too cold."

"I'm trying!"

"Well try harder?"

"How the fuck am I supposed to try harder! This stupid phone doesn't have a signal!"

Peter blinked against the man's shoulder, realizing that Bucky was the one holding him. "Mr. Stark? Is...is Mr. Stark...is he here?" He slurred, realizing at the last moment that his words didn't sound right. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, kid. It's me. Tony isn't here right now. But he's coming, okay? You're going to be okay."

"Oh...okay." He murmured, letting his head drop back against Bucky's shoulder, and the man rubbed his back.

"Try to stay awake, Pete. Please, kid." Bucky shook him a little, and his arm felt strange and tight and his leg hurt and everything hurt! "Peter?"

"Hur's...Bucky…"

"I know, kid. I know. Just...stick with us, okay? Sam's calling for help."

"Help?"

"Yeah, kid. We need some help."

"Wha' 'bout the...mission…?"

"Don't worry about that right now? It's going to be fine." Bucky wrapped his arms more tightly around him, rubbing a hand over his back.

"My arm hurts." Peter slurred, and Bucky squeezed him a little tighter, and he didn't know if Bucky was trying to comfort him or if he was trying to keep him warm. There was still red snow.

"I know. You dislocated your shoulder in the crash. But you're okay. Just try and…"

Peter closed his eyes again as Bucky finished that sentence and let himself sleep, hoping that the next time he woke up, everything would be okay.

It wasn't. The next time he woke he was laying on the ground, and someone was pressing hard on his thigh and it hurt but he couldn't even scream anymore. All he knew was that it hurt and tears were running down his face and he was so cold. But the cold and the pain were fading and he stared up at the gray blue sky until it all faded away, the cold and the pain and the red snow. People were talking to him but it didn't matter anymore. All that mattered was sleep.

"Peter!" Someone screamed, shaking his shoulder and sitting him up. "Kid! Fuck, Bucky we have to…"

Peter wanted to shush them. He let his head drop forward, landing hard against Sam's shoulder. Sam. Sam was wrapping his arms around him, rubbing his hands vigorously up and down Peter's arms.

"Peter! Look at me, kid. Come on!" Sam urged, and Peter tried to force his eyes open and to meet Sam's gaze. It sort of worked. "You're going to be okay. We're going to get you some help."

"M'cold."

"Yeah, that's because it's fucking freezing out here." He grumbled, pulling Peter close one more, and something cold was wrapped around him.

"I can't get a signal. Your phone is crushed, and mine isn't working. I can't find the kid's." Bucky muttered, and Peter was only vaguely aware of what any of that meant. "We can't keep him warm...he's still bleeding."

"So what the hell are we supposed to do?" Sam snapped.

"We need to start walking. Try to get somewhere with a signal. He's not going to last much longer without help."

The next thing Peter knew, he was moving...being hoisted up and carried as someone walked….and the walking...it was endless. Every step sent a jolt of stabbing pain up and down his leg and the cold wind was biting and agonizing. Soon, though, he wasn't so cold anymore. Soon, he was numb to it all, head limp on Bucky's shoulder. There was something wrapped around him, and maybe it was working. Maybe that's why he wasn't so cold.

It was Mr. Stark's voice that woke him next. "Peter!"

"Hm?"

"There you go, Spiderling! Hey, it's me, buddy. Come on!"

Peter wasn't being carried anymore. He was...laying on something firm. People were talking. Shouting. Bur Mr. Stark was there, right across from him, holding Peter's hand firmly in his. "Mr. Stark?" He tried to move his other hand but his arm was strapped to his chest. Hadn't he been with Sam and Bucky? "Where's Sam? Bucky? Can't...can't move..."

"They're here too. We're in the Quinjet. We've got your leg stitched up and you're in a cast. Your arm's in a sling. That's why you can't move."

"But...what happened?"

"You were in a plane crash. Well, we think someone shot down your plane. You got shish-kabobed, bud."

"Huh?"

Mr. Stark gave him a small, sad smile, reaching out and patting his cheek. "A piece of metal from the plane went through your thigh, and your leg was broken in two plaes. You almost bled out, Pete. Well, it was a race between bleeding out and freezing to death. But you're okay. Sam and Bucky took care of you."

"Are they okay?"

"Yeah. Sam sprained his ankle and got a pretty bad cut, and I think Bucky got a concussion like you, but you were the worst off."

"Oh…" Peter felt the drugs he must have been on starting to kick in, and his eyes drooped. "Can...can you thank them? Bucky...and Sam...they…" He blinked at Mr. Stark, the thought trailing off, and the man rubbed a thumb over his cheek.

"I'll tell them, buddy. And you can tell them yourself when you wake up."

"Mkay."


End file.
